


although my lips are blue and i am cold

by exexlovers



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Canon Compliant, Deceit, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fights, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Mentioned Angry Sex, Relationship Study, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:01:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28577931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exexlovers/pseuds/exexlovers
Summary: 'marvin would hold his hand as if he knew what it meant. he would make a pot of coffee as if they belonged in a house together. he would leave some saccharine note on the fridge as if he hadn’t raised his hand in threat the night before.'⤷ Dinner's burnt. Marvin's still raving over his ex-wife's new relationship. Whizzer ran out of patience a long time ago. Now what?
Relationships: Whizzer Brown/Marvin
Comments: 12
Kudos: 22





	1. prologue

Whizzer had spent the last eleven months in a different dimension. A double bed with two people instead of the whole mattress to himself. Doubled portions for dinner. The option to make himself boxed macaroni and cheese after a hard work day would be met with shouting voices and slammed doors.

Marvin would hold his hand as if he knew what it meant. He would make a pot of coffee as if they belonged in a house together. He would leave some saccharine note on the fridge as if he hadn’t raised his hand in threat the night before.

He liked to think of the two of them as a three-piece puzzle.There was him and Marvin, who clicked together properly to make a third of the picture. But there was another piece missing - what some might call a _je ne sais quoi._ Maybe they both needed some therapy, or to drop some hang-ups, or to communicate like grown adults.

Maybe Whizzer was just deluded.

But Marvin treated him like Trina 2.0. Just another wife to keep the house tidy and cook the food and be at the door with a kiss. As if the whole point of divorcing Trina was just to place her burdens atop Whizzer’s shoulders. As if leaving your wife and son for another man just meant you’d follow along the same pattern.

One would assume that divorce would be a catalyst where you realize everything is wrong and jump into overdrive to fix it all. Whizzer supposed Marvin just wasn’t that self-aware.

Whizzer tapped a pen against Marvin’s desk. Thought about the pile of dishes in the sink and the burnt dinner abandoned on the top of the stove. The paper in front of him was home to a thousand lines through words. A thousand sentences he could say but instead tamps down inside. 

_If I told you I hate you, what would you say?_

_Do you think you ever would have saved me?_

_As if I needed saving?_

_As if I asked you to save me?_

He leaned back in the office chair, his head landing on the top ledge of the chair. Regret took shape in crumpling the paper and missing the wastebasket by a foot. A foot away from some pocket of utopia at the edge of the universe, free of weaponized dissent and full of vitality.

Outside the open window, a car honked. A dog’s collar jingled as two owners walked past, happily chatting. 

Whizzer checked the clock. Marvin would be home in fifteen minutes.

The kitchen was still dirty. There was no Plan B dinner. His tea was cold on the desk. The phone had been left off the hook.

And he’d be going for a thirty-minute walk.


	2. he lifts me but never once carries

Quiet bravery was sickening after too long. Defying by coming home smelling like a different cologne was boring after a month. While a lack of monogamy was more than just elusion, the half-hearted remarks from Marvin were absolutely a plus.

But fights were better. Whizzer got a thrill from seeing Marvin twitch in anger, from finally having an excuse to dangle all of Marvin’s wrongdoings in his face. Sometimes it would end tangled under bedsheets, which felt dirty in the best way imaginable.

Marvin lounged on the sectional, looking bored with stacks of work papers in his hands. He tossed them on the coffee table and turned to Whizzer at the island.

Adrenaline sparked Whizzer’s nerves, clueless as to what Marvin was about to say.

“Do you wanna go for a walk?”

Whizzer made a face, glancing outside the window. “It’s snowing, Marvin.”

“I know. I wanted to get you a coffee.”

_Oh._ His adrenaline melted away. So they were in the Things Are Good phase. He held back a sigh.

“Oh.” He repeated, this time out loud. “Um, I don’t....”

Marvin frowned. “Or we could stay in, I guess…”

Whizzer muttered a “sorry,” spun his chair away to face the kitchen. He heard Marvin let out a long breath, heard his papers rustle again.

Marvin’s kindness reminded Whizzer of those photos of politicians kissing babies. Four months in, Whizzer would have thought, _Aww. That’s sweet._ Eleven months in, he was largely unimpressed. Sure, a free coffee is nice from anybody. But a coffee as reparations for a just-slightly-too-scathing insult and a door in Whizzer’s face? Didn’t really compare.

However, he _did_ feel bad for expecting a fight when Marvin may have truly had good intentions. He couldn’t help it. They’d run in circles from cheek caresses to down-turned eyebrows, genuine compliments to cold-hearted insults, and they’d still be at home in the same bed every night. Whizzer would get caught in a lie, or Marvin would be reprimanded for being messy, and their apartment door still never opened past eleven pm. Nobody ever walked out or got kicked out. Well… Whizzer had never gotten kicked out of the place. He’d never have the guts to kick Marvin out (who, of course, was paying the rent, and thus essentially had ownership over who lived in it.)

He turned back to Marvin. “You’re never gonna let me figure you out, huh?”

Marvin glanced over at him with a puzzled look. “You… What?”

“Buy me a coffee after locking me out of the bedroom last night? Like we’re magically all better?” Whizzer crossed his ankles.

“Yeah, well. What would you do after fighting with me for two straight hours?”

“Talk through it.” - Marvin laughed in disbelief - “ _Not_ lock my boyfriend out of his rightful space for long enough that he thought he’d be sleeping on the couch. You act like you didn’t hear me crying last night.”

“Crying? I- I…” Marvin’s eyesight was on the coffee table, not exactly staring at it. Staring meant his mind was blank, he was just letting energy fill the silence. A simple gaze meant he was thinking about what he did. Like a three-year-old in time-out. “No. I didn’t hear you crying.”

“‘No.’ It’s a teeny one-bedroom apartment, Marvin. That’s unlikely.”

He inhaled as if he were about to respond, then simply shrugged.

Whizzer let himself sigh this time. “Whatever. Just keep going from scary to nice like a flip of a switch.”

His words did as intended - flipped the very switch. “ _Right._ 'Cause you’re such a hero, hey, Whiz?” Marvin tilted his head in a taunt.

His jaw tensed. “ _Don’t_ call me that right now.”

Marvin may as well have ignored him. “Flying around in a cape, making all the right choices, saving everything in sight. Is that what the hero is? Then be the hero. Kill it off, princess.” he blinked quickly, voice suddenly tight. “Kill _us_ off.”

Whizzer stayed silent, his gaze on the floor, for a count of five, then spoke softly. “You told me about The Great Gatsby once. How Gatsby asked Daisy to tell him she loved him, and how his love for her was his fatal flaw.” he looked up, a chill dancing down his spine from the ice in Marvin’s eyes. “Why don’t you tell me you _never_ loved me? And you never will?” he swallowed hard. “It would have saved me from a lot of pain.”

He had to force the last sentence through the filters in his mind and the catch in his throat.

_Fuck._ Days Whizzer hasn’t cried in front of Marvin: scratch out 37, pencil in 0. He swiped at the tears mindlessly. 

Marvin placed his papers back down. For a moment, he looked apologetic. Then his expression became guarded again.

“Go fucking make dinner, Whizzer. Do something useful.”

Whizzer’s tears mixed amongst steely cold eyes. His vulnerability slipped back into a vault. “Fuck you.” he spat out, and went to lock Marvin out of the bedroom. 

Marvin said something that he didn't really listen to about "stay in your place, pretty boy." Whizzer thought about whispering _unbelievable_ under his breath, just loud enough for Marvin to hear his anger.

He didn’t.


End file.
